


felt with the heart

by kaithartic (bluedreaming)



Series: all the stars were laughing [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5278859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedreaming/pseuds/kaithartic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>. . .some things there's no getting used to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	felt with the heart

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to [this rain](http://www.rainymood.com/) falling while you read this.

 

_“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.”_  
―[Antoine de Saint-Exupéry](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/369705),  The Little Prince

 

The office always smells the same. Dusty, at first, the thick air sticking to the back of his throat as he coughs, once, twice, before he's used to it. Even when it's not dry, the dust is still there, just damper, heavier, as it weighs him down, until Yifan gets used to the feeling.

But some things there's no getting used to. The rain, falling ceaselessly outside the window, the sadness lurking under everything around him, everything that reminds him of _her_.

Yifan sits at his desk, hands hovering above the keyboard beneath the banks of data on the screen, though he's not looking at the rows and columns of numbers. There's a photograph hanging on the wall of the cubicle, a picture of three people, all wearing equally happy smiles. Looking at himself, he can't remember the feeling he had when that photograph was taken.

When he raises fingers to the corners of his mouth, lifting his lips in a smile, it feels like swimming against an inexorable tide coming in, regardless of any personal will towards the matter.

 _You have to be happy for Sehun_ , he tries to remind himself, looking at his son smiling in the photograph, but the rain outside keeps falling, and the seconds keep slipping from between his fingers.

"Hey," a voice says to his left; Yifan looks up, not even startled. Sometimes it doesn't even feel like things are real anymore, until he manages to wake himself up, snap out of it. But when he's not numb the sadness comes crashing in.

Baekhyun is standing next to his desk; coffee in hand. He looks concerned, his forehead wrinkled unattractively. Yifan just looks at him, waiting.

"You've been staring at the wall of your cubicle for over two hours now," Baekhyun says, and makes no move to take a drink from the steaming coffee. Yifan can smell it, the rich darkness; he used to like coffee. He used to like a lot of things. It seems like too much trouble, lately.

"Oh," he says, absently, and wonders when it's time to leave to pick up Sehun. He can see his smile already, the way his small hands curl up so perfectly in his palm. Maybe they can stop by the florist on the way home, pick up some flowers for—

It all comes crashing in, suddenly, the emptiness, the reality that she's gone, that YIfan is all alone, that this is the end, past the end, living past the end of the book, the afterword to the happy ending, the part where the pages start to tear from the binding. Yifan finds himself dropping his head into the waiting cushion of his hands, sagging in his seat as he tries to breathe around the crushing sadness, so much heavier than gravity, the weight of reality.

"You're not okay," Baekhyun says, and he sounds like he's made up his mind. Yifan nods, just a quick motion, but it's enough. _I know I'm not okay_ , he thinks, the words stretching out, compressing, bubbling like sparks of lucidity amidst the emotions he can't cope with. "I've made up my mind."

Yifan lifts his head; it's like fighting against the forces of nature, swimming against the tide. He looks at Baekhyun, who meets his gaze, unflinching. "This isn't working," Baekhyun says, "and as your friend, I'm going to make the move to get things under control." He gestures towards the computer screen, the keys on the keyboard that Yifan apparently hasn't touched all afternoon.

"We're taking the rest of the day off, and it's a good thing I asked Zishan for advice," he says, tapping at the screen of his phone. "I think we can get you in."

"In?" Yifan asks.

"You clearly need to talk to someone," Baekhyun says, voice emphatic, "and I'm not qualified." Yifan nods, because there's no use pretending he doesn't, because he's not alright. Everything is not alright. He just doesn't know how to fix it.

There's a pause, and then Baekhyun cheers slightly beneath his breath, eyes flicking over to Yifan with a quietly triumphant expression on his face. "We have an appointment!" he says.

Yifan nods, before he's suddenly struck by the hour. "I need to pick Sehun up," he says, glancing at the clock. Baekhyun frowns, checking the time on his phone.

"We can't really miss this appointment," he says, pursing his lips in thought. "Is there anyone you can call?"

Yifan is just shaking his head, _no, there's no one_ , reaching a hand to pull his phone out of his pocket anyway, a useless yet cooperative gesture, when a slip of paper falls to the floor, drifting slowly, back and forth in the air before it lands in a tiny pool of light that's chosen just that moment to shine through the clouds.

Yifan glances out the window, at the momentary gap in the clouds, before he turns back to the paper, but his gaze slows over the picture of the three of them, _her face_ smiling at him from the paper.

 _Yes_ , she seems to be telling him. _Yes._

Yifan leans over, reaching out an arm to collect the slip of paper from the ground, holding it out to Baekhyun, who leans forward to peer closely at it, a puzzled expression on his face.

_Jongin  
■■■-■■■-■■■■_

"One moment," Yifan says, remembering the young man in the rain, Jongin and his smile, the way Sehun seemed to like him. _Yes,_ the face in the picture smiled at him.

Yifan dials the number, fingers steady. It's only when he hears the ringing that his heart starts to race. _Can I really—_

the phone connects.

"Hello?" a voice asks. Jongin. Yifan swallows, eyes darting up again to her photograph, the brief flicker of light shining from between the clouds.

"This is Kris," Yifan says, and wills his hands to steady. He doesn't know how to ask. _How do I ask?_ "Can you—Sehun—" His voice cuts off into silence.

"Do you want me to—?" Jongin asks. He doesn't sound annoyed, or offended, or anything that Kris is pretty sure that Jongin wouldn't be from his brief time at their house, because it feels like he knows Jongin even though he doesn't really. Jongin waits, breathing on the other end of the line, but it sounds quietly patient.

"Do you think you could pick Sehun up from kindergarten?" Yifan asks, the words blurring together a little as lets them fall, but he can hear Jongin hum; knows he understands.

"Of course," Jongin says, and he doesn't ask why, though he's probably wondering. "Do I take him home?"

Yifan nods, before he remembers he's on the phone. "Yes," he says, "I'll give you the code—"

"Wait," Baekhyun says, warm hand on Yifan's shoulder. "Who is this?" He looks slightly concerned, and Yifan realizes, like waking up again, that he should probably be concerned and yet—

he isn't. Because he knows.

Yifan sits in his chair, fingers resting on knees pulled up to his chest; Baekhyun is talking to Jongin in the background, something about a kindergarten teacher and references and Yifan knows he'll hear about it later but for right now, just now, he's okay.

 _Thank you,_ he thinks, looking at the picture of the three of them. The clouds shift, grey once more obscuring the sky, but the Yifan knows that the sun is just behind them.

Waiting for the rain to end.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this shed some light on what Yifan was thinking throughout the story.


End file.
